A decent fool
by TrustFalls
Summary: The evolution of Marcus Pike.
1. Considering

**A/N:** So this is not so much something I wanted to write but something I needed to write (promising start, I know). The thing is, ever since the episodes involving Pike first aired and especially when re-watching them for my heart project "Everything is good.." (which you don't need to read to understand this one) I've been wondering about him and his relationship with Lisbon. Like: "Come on, you're not blind, so how/why do you.."

This OS is the answer I came up with. It's split up in chapters, but it's still just one thing.

 **Time frame:** All episodes involving Pike, from _Violets_ till _Nothing But Blue Skies_

 **Warning:** To be on the safe side: I tried to treat the character fair. Pike's not my favorite, but I feel sorry for him.

 **Thanks: To my fabulous beta reader** , **scriiibble!**

* * *

 _"So take her to the ocean  
Love to watch her floating  
Hoping that she drifts my way"_

 _[Emile Haynie feat Rufus Wainwright: Little Ballerina]_

* * *

 **Part I:**

 **Considering**

This is how their story ends:

Marcus Pike is dumped.

On the phone, by Teresa Lisbon; the woman he loves, the woman he wants to share his future with, the woman he wants to marry.

She leaves him for the man she loves, she breaks his heart and the worst thing is: he is not even surprised.

* * *

Of course he is not surprised. Not deep down, at least.

After all, Marcus Pike is neither blind nor is he is deaf.

And he is not even dumb (although that would make things easier).

Working stolen arts doesn't mean that he has stopped being a cop, that he has lost his instincts or his observations skills.

That he has forgotten how love can be.

* * *

The end of their story, compressed:

No wedding bells, no smoking, no white dress and no happy ever after. No home, no life, no family, but that probably goes without saying.

This end marks the beginning of a new story, a story Pike won't be part of.

This new story has probably been in the making for years and years and it having a happy end wouldn't surprise anybody, least of all him.

He is the unfortunate, they are the happy ones.

This is where things are simple, these are the basics.

* * *

If this was one of Pikes' cases, the cornerstones would be easily detected.

For starters, there'd be a crime.

Pike would be the victim and he would have something stolen from him, something that belonged entirely to him. There'd be a culprit, there'd be a motive, there'd be _wrong_.

Has he been cheated of his happiness, is it that simple?

Sure, he could pretend he has been and it is, shift all responsibility upon them, pretend he never saw anything like that coming .

Say that he has been played with, been a mark, used as a stopgap.

Those lies could make it more bearable and maybe they could even make him look less pathetic, couldn't they?

But this is neither a story, nor work or one of his cases; this is love, and that's the explanation has to be a completely different one.

* * *

These are the questions imposed on Pike:

What has his role been in this story? Has it been a naïve part, is he the victim? Or is he the guilty party, the one to blame?

And the biggest one question: Why?

During these month, there've been a million occasions for him to take steps and he never did.

Why?

Why isn't he angry, not even now?

Why did that happen?

Why did he let it happen? Why did he act the way he did, why did he rush into this relationship? Why did he never think about ending things himself? Why did he push and haul, hope and think, why did he close his eyes and ignore when deep down, he suspected, he knew—

Maybe it's time to look back.


	2. Trying

**Part II:**

 ** Trying**

 **I)**

Long before Teresa and him talk for the first time, Marcus Pike hears people gossip about her. About her and Patrick Jane, for everybody seems to use their names in the same breath at the time-.

(Here's the trouble with warning signs: They are _so_ easy to ignore if you want to.)

His whole department is stressed out because of the coming raid of a businessmen's properties that happen to be spread all over the state. They've been planning this operation for weeks and now, it is about to happen.

Small talk provides a much needed relief in between, so they talk. Lame jokes and witty anecdotes, sports and office gossip.

Among: Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon, the latest additions to Abbotts serious crime unit.

California, tragedies, death, teams, deals, detention suits and demands, those are the hard facts.

And there's a part of the story nobody knows anything solid about, the part that leaves room for speculation:

"Maybe they are lovers," Agent Felt suggests "I mean, why else –" He arches his bushy eyebrows suggestively and leaves the sentence unfinished.

"Or it's egoism," Cohn, recently divorced and disillusioned "They were a successful team before and this Jane guy needs to surround himself with people not trying to shoot him after being around him for three days. I heard he has that effect on people."

"Yeah, I heard the same. Or maybe they were lovers before he fled the country and is trying to live up to the past. Wouldn't blame him for trying. Pike, care to share your theory? "

"No, not really." Pike shrugs and takes another slice of pizza. Love seems logical, but it's none of his business, really and that's why he won't waste more than a thought or two on their story. "I'll pass."

They veer off, then. Lunch break is almost over.

* * *

 **II)**

Later, Pike sees Teresa from afar a few times. In the elevator and the parking lot, the way you know a colleague briefly when you work for the same agency and in the same building for some time.

He thinks Patrick Jane a lucky devil then.

That's it.

* * *

 **III)**

Eventually, their office is being renovated and Abbott offers them the serious crime units conference room as a temporary replacement.

This is where their story really starts.

It starts with an armed attack of a gallery, with the MacKaye case picking up speed, with Patrick Jane, who suddenly strolls in, talking about clichés and shoulders—and who is offering his help.

With Marcus Pike accepting Patrick Janes help.

Why does he?

For a couple of reasons, probably.

Chiefly because they need help.

The art crimes department has been trading water for so long now and this gang has always been a couple of steps ahead of them. They'll catch them, they'll stay on task, but it may take ages till hard work finally pays off and they make the arrest. The one mistake these guys have made so far, the lost glove, hasn't given them much to work with and Pike has started to suspect that this case may be out of their league.

Maybe Jane and the serious crime unit can provide the help they need. There's no shame in admitting that, he knows his limitations and about their solve rate.

What could possibly go wrong?

Besides: he is curious.

He has heard off them, and now he will work with them.

* * *

 **IV)**

Janes plan involves a certain kind of decor, decor Pike can offer, so he takes them to the evidence room.

The teams secret museum, his Aladdin's cave, the most fascinating place he has ever had access to. Normally, he focuses on all the beauty surrounding him, all those confiscated artworks and treasurers, but this time he gets sidetracked, is completely captivated by one attraction in particular.

"Impressive," Teresa smirks "Do you bring dates here?"

He plays along: "No—just once or twice."

She smiles. It's a nice smile, dimpling and bright and attractive.

Pikes heartbeat quickens. He smiles back, racking his brain for a remark that could either be flirty or decent, depending on what she wants it to be.

Jane interrupts him.

Funny how he forgot the man was even there.

* * *

 **V)**

This is the second puzzle Pike comes face to face with on that day, another puzzle he can't solve on his own. The signs are inconsistent, sounding an expert on the matter seems to be the logical consequence.

So during the observation, he asks Agent Wylie for Janes and Lisbons story.

"I mean are they in a relationship, a couple?" just casual small talk, nothings at stake and hey, they are both hungry and have time to kill. Stakeouts always run this way, right?

And the agent will know, Pike thinks, he is working with them on a daily basis.

If the answer is yes, that's okay. If he is without a chance, he can accept that. After all, nothing has happened yet, nothing that goes beneath sympathy and attraction and wanting to know her better on his side.

Pike finds himself holding his breath anyway.

(Funny, how he also suddenly finds himself dishonest.)

"No. I used to think so, but they are not…I don't think," Wylie answers hesitantly.

And Pike gladly ignores the vagueness, the limitation and the consequences that are not far to seek, the "I used to think so" and the "They are not, I think" and simply clings to the promising word "No".

* * *

 **VI)**

This is Pikes downright description of Teresa Lisbon after working together for the first time:

One hell of a good looking woman, smart and sassy and wonderful and unattached.

He'd love to get to know her better.

* * *

 **VII)**

This is how Teresas and his story starts: With the little word " _but_ ".

With this one, to be precise:

"This is really sweet, but—" Teresa says, when he first asks her out, after MacKaye has been put behind bars and the rest of her unit has ordered something they call "Closed case pizza" .

Pike takes his chance then and this is her initial reaction:

Unease, the overture to a polite brush-off.

But he manages to change her mind (he and the pancakes he has to offer) , he manages to entice her away from here and California-grown rituals and Jane, who immediately understands why he can't join.

"Have fun, kids," Jane calls after them.

They have. It's a great evening.

(And here's the trouble with buts: they are easy to ignore if you want to)

* * *

 **VIII)**

If Pike would allow himself to be honest, to phrase his impressions, this would be his description of Teresa after he has gotten to know her well:

One hell of a good looking women, smart and sassy and wonderful and—

Probably trying to give up her feelings for another man.

A great catch, nevertheless.

* * *

 **IX)**

This is obvious:

Teresa and Jane have known each other for ages, they are at home with each other and nobody can miss that there is some kind of bond between them.

Even so, they still call each other by surname, they are not a real couple and they have never been one.

Why?

This is the explanation Pike comes up with:

Because they've missed their moment to become one.

The feelings have been there, no point in lying about that. And they've had their shot at making something of those (and probably more than one) during all those years, but at the crucial point, neither of them has found the courage to act.

Sometimes chances are wasted, that's how life can be.

This is what Pike is convinced off:

Their time is up, Janes time is up. Teresa wants to move on and she wants to move on with him.

And Marcus Pike won't waste his chance.

* * *

 **X)**

This is how Pike reasons with himself every time he needs to:

Everything he knows doesn't matter, it's no reason to relinquish.

For everybody carries some kind of baggage, Pike is aware of that, especially people of their age. Vice versa, it would be odd, right?

Somebody like Teresa is probably bound to have some kind of flaw, he understands that.

And he can live with this flaw. If plain speaking and courage at the crucial moment are meant to be to be the two things he has over Patrick Jane, then so be it.

What matters is that Teresa and him want the same thing, that she wants to be with him.

The rest is just a matter of time.

Feelings change, love can grow.

He just needs to wait, he just needs to be patient.

* * *

 **XI)**

At least he gets to be with Teresa. That makes him the lucky one in this set-up, right?


	3. The pawn

**I)**

At the beginning of every chess game both players own sixteen figures.

In the center of the first rank stand the king and the queen. They are flanked by a couple of bishops, the two rooks and the two knights.

Eight pawns inhabit the second rank.

Pawns outnumber the other figures and they are the weakest ones in the game. Their range is limited, they are sacrificed in passing just like they are captured en passant and yet there is something special about them:

They can change.

Because once a pawn manages to reach the eighth row, it's transformed into a different figure. The player gets to decide whether he wants it to become a bishop, a rook, a knight or a queen.

It's called the promotion rule.

Marcus Pike has never been more than a mediocre player, but this one aspect of the game has always fascinated him deeply.

Patience, hard work and a little luck, that's all it takes to succeed in life.

* * *

 **II)**

Somehow, the thought has been keeping him company all his life.

Unlike some others, success had never been handed on a plate to him, but he had always been a hard worker, never one to cut and run.

And it had paid off.

At school, at college, at work.

(In relationships, even though the fact that he has been divorced seems to tell another story—but Maura and him had tried.)

* * *

 **III)**

These character traits explain his rise in the FBI, a rise that culminates in being offered a promotion to a job in DC.


	4. The boyfriend

**The boyfriend**

 **I)**

Being with Teresa is good.

And by good, he means wonderful, awesome, mind-blowing and fulfilling—at once .

Achingly beautiful at times, but he always knows that she is doing her best.

(This is what they build on: He is falling in love with her, she wants to love him back and he makes it easy for her.

Because they both want to have it good.)

* * *

 **II)**

From the start, Marcus Pike kicks it into high gear.

He makes a point of always being there for Teresa, he makes her his top propriety.

Fancy restaurants, nice places, top-class movies, romantic ideas— there's hardly an evening they spent without doing something special. Pike ruminates, he plans, he chooses the activities he suggests to Teresa carefully, he is attentive and patient and around.

In other words: he's is trying to be a model boyfriend.

He tells himself that there's nothing unusual about that, that he wants to spoil his girlfriend a little because this is what people do when something is real.

That he is just trying to prove how serious he is about them.

That spontaneity would mean not investing the time to plan.

It's just not the whole truth. Conscious and unconscious, he's trying to compensate, to get another message across. A message like: _This is how our life together can be, Teresa. You can have all this and more, every day._

(Look, look closely: I am the exact opposite of him)

* * *

 **III)**

This is a text Teresa sends him while she's working a case on a remote men club in the woods:

 _Hey, handsome stranger! This place makes me feel like a time-traveler, these guys seem to believe it's still Prohibition out there. I'm SO looking forward to our dinner. PS: Jane says "hi"._

He chuckles to himself.

A very girlfriend-like text (with just one tiny flaw).

* * *

 **IV)**

Patrick Jane: Abbotts guy. The damaged genius, the man who always has a plan. So much smarter than everybody else and so much more fucked up.

He's omnipresent, always around Teresa and therefore always lurking on the edge of Pikes field of vision.

Pike admires his outstanding, brilliant intellect ,he accepts his presence and yet they rarely talk. Apart from the one case they work together, the civil greetings and the best wishes every now and then: not much.

It's not hate, not even dislike, there just seems nothing to talk about.

The genius and the hard worker—they are so contradictory, they have nothing in common.

(Serving as an exception: the fact that they are maybe, probably in love with the same women.)

* * *

 **V)**

"You are a terrible liar. I like that in man," Teresa observes during one of their dates.

She looks beautiful, even more then usually, and he can see that she made an effort with her outfit.

Oh, Pike knows who's haunting her thoughts when she says it, but he doesn't mind.

Quite the opposite: The way he sees it, it's a compliment, something he has over on Jane.

(And he takes what he can get in that department.)

* * *

 **VI)**

This is bad timing:

Until now, Teresa and him have taken all the right steps in the right order and now, Pike has to wander from that path.

The promotion he has been offered forces him to.

It might be non-standard and a little too early, but Pike makes the most of it: he has chosen the restaurant, the moment and the words and pictures his little speech consists of with care.

It's not necessary a bad thing, though. Maybe it just hastens their story.

"I'm not a kid" he starts "I've been married and divorced, I know when something is real. And when it could get serious. I feel that way about us. Do you feel that way?" he asks, holding his breath.

Teresa hesitates. She hesitates a long moment, but then, she says what she should say:

"Yeah, I do."

With that said, Pike can get to the gist of it:

"I'm asking, what if we went to DC. You and me, together."

Teresa needs time to think and he understands that.

From this moment, he has another mission: Winning her heart, for DC and for him.

* * *

 **VII)**

Pike is directing this date: First the classic movie night and later his old band—that's how versatile he is.

 _East of Eden,_ is playing, one of his favorites.

Halfway through the movie, he wants to take her hand.

"Sweetheart," Pike whispers. Teresa doesn't respond and he leans forward.

At the first moment, it looks like she's absorbed by the movie, but then he notices how her head has fallen a little to the side, away from him.

She's asleep. His hand hovers over her hand and reluctantly, he pulls it back. He doesn't want to wake her up.

Instead, he has a long close affectionate look at her.

Relaxed, she looks. At ease.

He isn't disappointed because he understands. She has a rough job and needs a little extra sleep. And falling asleep like that means that she feels comfortable around him, right?

* * *

 **VIII)**

Teresa wants to say yes and he believes her.

"Take your time, there's no deadline," he tells her.

* * *

 **IX)**

Pike also tells Teresa that his old band is playing a gig downtown.

Teresa likes the idea, likes it a lot.

"You're so cool," she beams.

And then Jane calls, twice. Teresa rejects his first call, because she's trying to focus on the two of them, but she takes the second.

"What, Jane?" Teresa asks, rolling her eyes.

But she listens. It's a short talk:

"Fine," she says, before hanging up. It's the grumpiest "Fine" he has ever heard and Pike knows, she's going to ditch him.

"I'm sorry, Marcus" she apologizes "But I can't go see the band, I have to Jane needs—" she bites her lip and for a split second, there's the word she doesn't say hovering in the air between them. But she shakes her head, almost unnoticeable, and goes for: "He is usually right, you know?"

She wants him to understand and Pike understands.

Maybe he is cool, but Patrick Jane is cooler.

However, he doesn't query whether Jane needs Teresas help.

* * *

 **X)**

Teresa and him, they have some topics they never talk about, topics they pass over in silence.

(But hasn't everyone?)

On his part the biggest one is Maura, his ex wife and he simply never talks about her because he never wants or needs to. She has nothing to do with Teresa and him, she is his past and they have put each other behind.

On Teresa's part the biggest one is Patrick Jane and it's all different. Sometimes, topics are changed, sometimes there are those little evasions, the _Long boring stories,_ the _Neverminds,_ and the _I don't wanna talk about its_ and the worst of them, the big moments of wordlessness.

Marcus Pike is not an idiot, he feels that there is a difference between her reasons and his reasons.

But that difference can't matter, he decides, simply because he doesn't allow it to matter.

* * *

 **XI)**

Once, Pike wakes up in the middle of the night and hears Teresa talking in her sleep.

Not exactly talking, it's more of a mumbling. Her voice is low and he can't make any particular words out, but there seems to be no reason to wake her, it sounds like she is having a nice dream.

Maybe even one of those s where the world is perfect and everything is as it should be, where wishes have come true?

(Dozy, he thinks that if so, then he doesn't want to know who's with her now.)

Gently, he pulls her closer and quickly falls asleep again.

It's just a dream, after all.

* * *

 **XII)**

One day, when he stops by to pick Teresa up for lunch, he comes upon her and Jane in a fight.

Or more specifically, Teresa's the one taking care of the fighting, Jane is just standing there, looking unhappy, looking somewhat battered. No shouting and no cusses, but it's obvious enough. The angry sparkle in her eyes, the hard line her mouth is set in, everything.

She seems so different and Pike needs a moment to figure out why that's the case.

Maybe it's because he has never seen her angry before.

Of course, he knows what this is about, simply because the whole department knows. The grand jury, the possibility of a conviction on a charge of murder.

And Pike also knows this: Jane did what he had to and he hopes that the jurors can understand that. It may be easy to forget it when dealing with him, but the man lost everything once and prosecution just wouldn't be right.

"Oh, you picked a great time to start following orders," Teresa bags out.

(She is never sarcastic when they are together, Pike realizes.)

"I think you did what every good father and husband would have done," he assures Jane, before Teresa almost hauls him out.

* * *

 **XIII)**

Unsurprisingly, it overshadows their lunch-break.

Sure, they make an effort, they order nice stuff and keep the conversation rolling, but the vibe is still flawed.

Teresa doesn't take it out on him, but she spends more time pushing the food on her plate around then actually eating it and some of her comments reveal stray thoughts.

Pike clears his throat.

"Teresa: why don't you bring me into the loop?"

She stops picking at her food "I'm sorry, I didn't—" she bits her lip and smiles apologetic "That obvious, huh? Fine, I'll tell you, but it's no big deal, really."

So she explains. She tries to keep it neutral, but below the surface, the anger bubbling up shines through.

"He didn't tell me," that's how she finishes "He knew how it would look like to me, and yet he left me out in the cold."

(It's he; he not they.)

So this is what this is really about: Teresa's been afraid, afraid for Jane.

Which makes it a big, big deal.

Naturally, Pike reaches for her hand. He will comfort his girlfriend, he will to sooth her, he wants to—

"Teresa, maybe—" he starts, and then he stops.

Suddenly, there's another possibility presenting itself, a tempting one, at least for a moment.

For he could agree, show her that he is always on her side, mention that something like that would never happen to her in DC, and as a byproduct, he could even set her to fight more.

It would be _so_ easy, Teresa's in the right mood.

But it would be wrong, Pike knows that.

He clears his throat once more and banishes the thought for good.

"Teresa, I don't think you should be angry with Jane," he says instead "After all, he had official orders not to let anybody in on the plan and he couldn't go against those, could he? I mean, orders are binding, even for Jane."

His smile accompanying these words feels dishonest and it's probably for the best not to dwell on that point, so he passes over it, right back into shallow waters. He offers a few more arguments, good, solid ones; about the plan only working out this way, about her teammates not taking offence, about the goal being worth a little trouble, he finishes with "Don't you think you overreacted, just a little?"

Finally, Teresa nods and she smiles. It's a crooked smile, but a smile is a smile, right?

"Look at you—reasonable and understanding. I'm beginning to think you're wasting your talents with the art crimes department."

She has a sip of her wine and continues resolute:

"You know what? You're right., I was wrong. I'm gonna apologize to him later."

Pike presses her hand.

"See? Things are never as bad as they seem."

* * *

 **XIV)**

For a change, they both can call it a day rather early, spent an early evening together. They cozy up on her couch, they watch TV and it's all set for a quiet, homely evening.

(Simple, beautiful—that's how good things can be.)

And _Casablanca_ is on. The icing on the cake, a film he has probably seen a hundred times already, full of love, tragic and glory .

"Here's looking at you, kid," he declaims.

"I'm not really into old movies." Teresa mutters, absent-mindedly.

She is distracted and certainly not by the paper she pretends to read.

Pike may not be able to read minds like Jane does, but obviously something is fretting her.

Maybe her wounded feelings are still occupying her mind, maybe something new has happened on this half day or maybe, maybe nothing like that is needed.

* * *

 **XV)**

Thus, this:

He has been avoiding it all the time, but maybe there is no other way, maybe Teresa and him need to have this conversation before they can leave for DC.

Pike has to let her know that he understands what moving to DC means for her.

To what extend he understands.

This is how Pike tries to address the mind-reading elephant in the room:

By starting with: "And it might raise issues you don't feel totally comfortable talking to me about."

 _(I understand why you can't talk to me about it. I know what kind of issues you are dealing with, issues like: Giving old feelings up, issues like: letting new feelings bloom.)_

By continuing with: "But I just want you to know it's okay. I mean, you go through whatever process you need to. "

 _(I know it's hard work, both of it. I know you try, I know you work on closing that story, I know that all you need is time.)_

By finishing with: "Just—let me know when you make a decision."

 _(_ _I'm giving you all the time you need_ _. We can be at home with each other, Teresa._ _Let's be simple and beautiful._ _)_

By looking at her, full of hope and certainty and affection.

And it works. Teresa understands him, understands what he really means and it moves her deeply, he can see that.

"Thank you."

They kiss.

"Let's watch Casablanca," she suggests, reaching for the remote.

But suddenly, he's the one not being into the idea, for he doubts that Casablanca can offer the right background. Not for them, at least, certainly not for spending a peaceable evening, an evening that is supposed to be an example of all those evenings that await them in DC.

(Not with love being sacrificed for rationality and the cause.)

Instead, they go for baseball.

Baseball is always nice.

* * *

 **XVI)**

Pike suggest ordering pizza, but Teresa's not hungry, she has already eaten. Dinner with Jane, at a place called _Il tavolo blanco_. Work, another one of Abbotts orders.

It's easy to compromise on the matter: They'll share a little salad and he'll eat the pizza alone. Teresa roots her kitchen for vegetables and then, there's a knock on the door.

"Could you?" she asks distracted.

Pike opens the door.

Jane. The last person he wants to see, but not the last person he expected to see. He brings a paper bag and he smiles. Bright. (Hopeful?) He didn't expect _him_ to open that door, obviously.

"Jane."

A little questioning, probably to invite the man to do the appropriate thing, like offering an explanation for showing up like this or at least apologizing for interrupting them at this hour.

(What do you want, Jane? Are you surprised to see me here? Why?)

Janes smile fades, but he doesn't explain.

"Lisbon in?" he asks instead. Whatever it is, it's urgent, for he appears harried. Harried and determined, that is.

"Yeah," another explanation-less second elapses until Pike accepts that none will follow and it will be up to him to fabricate one.

He does what he is supposed to do next: "Teresa. It's…it's Jane, " he calls.

Pike clears his throat. It's a warm evening and yet it suddenly feels chilly. The situation is inconvenient, confusing, alarming even.

(Won't somebody tell him?)

Teresa doesn't tell him to stay, so he doesn't. Instead he retreats into the kitchen. Going, he can't help but picking up parts of their conversation; there are Cannolli, there's Jane pulling away—there's nothing inexplicable.

But Teresa stops Jane. "You didn't come here this late to drop off Canolli," she corrects, before stepping outside, closing the door behind her.

No, he definitively didn't, Pike thinks with a rare hint of gallows humor.

It's the last thing he hears. The street window is closed and he won't open it. (This is not who he is.)

So Pike starts slicing the tomatoes, accurately and with care. He's halfway through the paprika when Teresa comes back.

Only then he realizes he's been holding his breath all that time.

* * *

 **XVII)**

He could ask her, casual and while setting the table. He could pretend that Jane was in the neighborhood, that he had business to take care of there and just showed up at her doorstep because the two are colleagues and friends.

He could say something like: "Work, huh? Crime never sleeps and the same applies to crime fighters , right?"

Or like: "I'm glad you two made up. I knew he wouldn't hold that tiff against you."

Maybe even something like: "Is food his idea of a peace pipe?"

Pike chooses not to.

He chooses to ignore the tears in her eye, how her knuckles holding the paper bag shine white, how she quickly puts it into the fridge, how she slams it's door firmer than necessary.

He chooses to pretend that there's nothing unusual here, that it's a common thing for a nothing-but-a-colleague-and-friend of your girlfriend to show up in the middle of the night and make her cry.

He chooses to wait.

Jane's gone and Teresa came back to him and she tries to put on a happy face, so there's no need for all this, right?

* * *

 **XVIII)**

Shorty afterwards, Pike breaks his resolution of giving Teresa all the time she needs and tries to hasten things.

And it's so easy: He simply calls Don and tells him about Teresa moving to DC, pushes him just a little to pass on other candidates, knowing full well that a job offer will follow.

He can explain himself, of course he can. He can talk about making it easier for her, invoke clearing up any unvoiced concerns about her career and moving up in the new branch, claim that his intervention has simply provided DC with another attraction. Just a love tap into the right direction, just looking out for her best interest, just another argument working in his favor.

Her life, he wants to be a part of it and he has been patient for _so_ long.

Yeah, he can say all that.

It's just not the truth. Or, in precise terms: all those arguments are pleaded and nothing can change that.

"I don't know yet," Teresa admits, after talking to Don, while they are standing outside of Abbotts office.

(Still not.)

"I know it's a big decision, but it's a decision you need to make." Pike answers.

Jane hurries past, interrupting them.

Pike says nothing more.


	5. The winner

**The winner**

 **I)**

Pike's over the moon when Teresa finally makes up her mind and decides to go to DC with him.

All those presentiments and doubts he has so carefully turned a blind eye to fall silent, they are replaced by a new mixture:

Happiness, relief and triumph.

For he has been right all the time. It doesn't matter what chastened Teresa or that she's had a tough day, nothing matters when it means that all he can offer finally won her over.

He is the winner.

And that's great, Pike thinks, but that doesn't have to be the end of the flagpole.

Why not upping the ante, why not making a real job out of it?

Why not making things final and absolute?

It's not like he hasn't planned to ask her, before. Of course, the place and the time are far from perfect or even carefully selected, but they'll have to make do because the opportunity is golden.

This could be the mood where Teresa will say y _es_ for the second time in less than ten minutes.

So he proposes.

"What the hell," Pike blurts out "Will you marry me?"

"What?" Teresa mutters, "What?"

There is no panic in her eyes, no consternation, he calms himself down, just surprise. And hey, that's understandable, their relationship is still young, he is bringing the big guns in and—

"Don't freak out."

He doesn't fear that she would take a step back if he wasn't holding her, that she might run away, he just wants to support her.

They agree that she needs time to think. A big decision, a huge one.

(This could be another element of their story: We believe what we want to believe)

"You're a tough date," he tells her affectionately.

* * *

 **II)**

"Have you told Jane you're leaving yet?"

"No, not yet."

(Some questions don't need to be asked)

"He'll understand," Pike says, before kissing her once more.

Maybe he is being cruel, maybe this is the cruelest thing he has ever said and done, for he knows that the other man is there and could be watching them but hey, it's the same with band aids that are best ripped off in one go, right?

After all, they can't all be happy.

He is simply the lucky one. Patrick Jane is the loser and he will have to get over it.

* * *

 **III)**

For nine days, Marcus Pike is the proud winner.

Teresa will live in DC with him.

Sure, there's that ill-timed last case her team has caught, the one which will make her arrival a delayed one, but that doesn't matter, because she _will_ come, she has chosen DC and him and their life together.

It's neither here nor there that Teresa hasn't accepted his proposal yet, it's a big decision and all she needs is time to think.

Fortunately they'll have all the time in the world once they are in DC.

He is perfectly happy.


	6. The fiancee

**The fiancée**

 **I)**

For a few hours Teresa and him are engaged.

Pike's at work when Teresa calls.

"If the offer still stands, the answer is yes. Let's get married," that's how she puts it.

He punches the air, he cheers. It's simply great and hasn't he known all along? Good things come to those who wait, that's what they say—and it's what he has done and it's true, true, true!

(He doesn't ask, he just wants to celebrate)

"Good. Good. Well, I'm on my way to DC now."

Immediately, he starts talking: listing all the advantages that will be waiting for her; Brownie points of their future neighborhood, the restaurants, of their life.

(Why does he feel the need to assure her that this is the right way when she was on her way to DC and him anyway?)

"Teresa, are you still there?" he eventually asks, when he finally can't think of any prospects he hasn't already presented her.

She's not.

He hangs up and calls her again. It rings a few times before he is sent to voicemail.

This is his explanation: She hit a dead zone. Strange how unreliable this technical stuff sometimes is. Even stranger how even today's phones sometimes distort voices.

* * *

 **II)**

Later, Teresa texts him the flight information (and for the first time, she adds a smiley).

Shortly afterwards, Pike gets another text, she's telling him that the flight will be delayed. Forty-five minutes, according to loudspeaker announcement.

That's nothing.


	7. The loser

**The loser**

 **I)**

This is where she leaves him:

Pike's in the parking lot, checking his little shopping list for the last time. He's got the red roses (thirty, long-handled ones), he's got the champagne (the best one they had) and he has just realized that he forgot the ice-cream, when his phone rings. He needs a moment to find it, somehow a part of his shoppings have landed on his jacket, but it's not long till he answers, just four or five seconds.

"Marcus," Teresa says, without preamble "Something has happened." She draws a deep breath and in his minds eye, he can see her; closing her eyes and reaching for her cross chain.

It will appear odd to him later, but in this particular moment he is already certain that no ice-cream will be needed, at least not for them, not for celebrating their new home or their approaching wedding.

The first warning sign is simply a matter of timing and logic: Teresa shouldn't be able to call him. Not now, because she should still be in the air.

The second warning sign is her voice. It's completely altered. There's the definable mixture; there's breathlessness, apology, excitement and determination and beneath all that, there is something else, something he can't quite place, something he has never heard before.

Of course, it's all downhill from there.

Pike leans against the back of his car, closes his eyes and waits.

"I won't—I'm not coming," she takes another deep breath and he knows that she is sorry for doing this and he knows that nothing can stop her from doing it "You're a good man, the best—and you deserve an explanation, so—"

"Teresa," Pike breaks in on her.

For a long moment he gropes for words, tries to get the hurricane raging in his head and heart under control .

It hurts like hell, but it doesn't surprise him.

He can't waste their time with questions about delayed planes, unannounced strikes or bomb threats and he can't try to change her mind.

Oh, he would try, but he knows it would be futile.

"You don't have to do that. I understand," he finally tells her. It has been meant to be cutting, a scornful reproach, some kind of the last flare of the anger and hurt that are due to him. She doesn't have to explain it because he already knows, he knows that she is leaving him for another man, so he has every right to be angry, right?

But his voice betrayals him. There is no edge in it, just hoarseness—lenience and admitting defeat, that's what he hears.

Two or three seconds elapse in silence and Pike realizes it's all true, that there is no anger in his voice because there is no anger in him. It's funny, he has said it so many times before, but now, when he is standing on the sideline for good, he really understands.

Pike understands that the note in her voice he couldn't class before is bliss.

He understands that the only catastrophe that has happened is Patrick Jane, finally commanding all courage and being the lucky devil, once more.

He understands it all, he understands that whatever Jane did really makes Teresa happy, happier than he could ever have.

"I am sorry, I really am." Teresa tells him.

"Don't be, I mean it. I know you tried. We—" He clears his throat. _It could have worked_ , Pike wants to say, but it's not true, and there's no more point in lying. In the long run, they would all have been unhappy. All three of them.

He won't make this difficult for them.

"I'll send your things back," he promises instead "First thing tomorrow. And—" He pauses, struggling for words once more and finally deciding to get this over and done with as much dignity as possible "And I guess this is the part where we wish each other a good life, so…."

"Goodbye." Solemn and with finality. "And good luck, Marcus."

"Goodbye, Teresa."

That's it. Silence sets in.

Finally, Pike realizes that there's an appropriate thing left for him to say.

"And—"

But she's already gone and he stands still, wondering if she was ever really here.

It's probably for the best, everything that needed to be said has been said and at least he won't have to present compliments to Jane that way.

* * *

 **II)**

Footsteps tear him from his submersion.

Somebody else who has been working through his shopping list.

Pike wavers a moment, between doing something silly and just driving off. But he decides it doesn't matter, so he reaches for the flowers and the champagne, and turns towards the women who has finished loading in her heavy bags.

"If you like? Apparently, I won't be needing them anymore."

Surprised she looks at him, (probably wondering if he is a lunatic), but she accepts.

"Thank you. That's kind of you, but why—"

"There's been a misunderstanding." Pike says, before getting in his car and driving off.


	8. Closing words

**Part III:**

 **Closing words**

 **I)**

After twelve days of setting in and licking his wounds, Marcus Pike comes back to Austin.

Giving his deposition to a prosecutor, that's his ground.

Giving it means accepting a three-hour outward fly in the midst of preparing an undercover operation and later, a cab ride across town.

Twelve days and a forenoon. Plenty of time for him to think, but not nearly enough time to figure out his own motives.

He knows what his old colleagues will be thinking: That the deposition is kind of a flimsy excuse, that he could have taken care of this matter without coming here in person, which means there has to something else he wants to do here.

And Pike doesn't mind being the buzz topic for a change, all he minds is that he doesn't know if they are right.

For this time he comes empty-handed and without a plan.

What he knows absolutely is that he needs to do this.

Give his deposition and—

Do what's left for him to do, probably (whatever _that_ means).

Try to get some answers, try finding the kind of closure he needs, the kind of closure he may deserve before he can let go and move on.

Before the pain in his chest can fully disappear. The pain that has started to subside, the pain that is still there.

It's awfully vague, but it's all he has managed to come up with.

What Pike has is a long list of things he won't do: beg Teresa to come back, create a scene, challenge Jane to a duel, beat the other man to a pulp—everything that would lead to him making a fool of himself.

(Not this time.)

And there's one more point: maybe, just maybe he wants to check on Teresa.

If she had wanted him to, he would happily have spent a lifetime looking after her, so nobody can blame him for wanting this, right?

Just one last time.

* * *

 **II)**

Maybe Pike has been stalling and anyway, when he finally enters the serious crime units bullpen, he finds Teresa's desk empty.

Funny, how he also finds himself extremely relived and badly disappointed by the same fact.

So instead of looking into her eyes, he starts to leave her a message. Short, innocuous and trivial it has to be and it's probably for that reason that the words come so easy to him.

That is, until he is interrupted.

"Ah, excuse me. Can I help you?" a voice asks.

Jane. Of course.

Sundries are resonating in this question and it's easy to pick up some of it: _Whoever you are, you don't belong here_ and _Leave Teresa alone._ Protectiveness, care and noisiness, they mix in Jane's voice.

For him, it's hard luck, from cover to cover, Pike observes.

And: This is another turn of events that had to be expected.

* * *

 **III)**

Since he's been turning his back on the other man, Pike hasn't been recognized yet.

He does it now.

"Jane."

Jane approaches him.

"Pike. Hello."

So here they are. There has never been much for them to talk about and even though that has changed, they don't go there.

Of course not.

"I was, uh, looking for Teresa."

He drops the pen. Why does he suddenly feel like an intruder, like somebody who has to justify his presence—and why to Jane of all people?

"Yeah, I'm sure she's around here—I'm sure she's around here someplace."

For the first time ever, Pike can read something into the man's posture: Jane feels uncomfortable, he temporizes. Determined to stand his ground, not sorry (and how could he be?) but he feels vulnerable. The genius doesn't know what to expect from him.

Maybe that should be a comfort to him, Pike thinks, but it's not.

Because with the same clarity of thought, he can now look at his own feelings.

And first and foremost, he finds reasons to feel stupid there. Really stupid, for coming here, for needing to see with his own eyes, for the tiny, unacknowledged part of him that had been hoping to find a face-saver here.

(What did you expect, Marcus?

Two people to hate? The ashes of a straw fire?)

Deep down, he had known it wouldn't be like that.

* * *

 **IV)**

They've run out of civilities, and for a moment, silence sets in.

But if nothing else, Marcus Pike is a decent loser, so he forces a smile onto his face before trying to get it over and done.

"So it's, uh—you and her."

Jane comes closer.

"I'm sorry. We didn't intend for it to happen like this. I know it was the last thing on her mind, the idea of hurting you," he tells him.

Jane wants him to understand, wants him to realizes that his explanation is genuine, Pike can see that.

Knowing that this is the truth is part of his downfall. For he knows Teresa well enough to be absolutely certain, he even knows enough about Jane to take for granted that nobody _meant_ to hurt him.

"I know," he says.

Nobody meant to hurt him, but he has been hurt. By their doings and his own doings. That's just the way it is. Hurt by the things we do for love, by human nature and by shared responsibilities.

He can't be angry.

Funny, how Pike suddenly remembers thinking that they can't all be happy, the day when Teresa agreed to go to DC with him.

Band aids are being best ripped off in one go, that's what he had thought. And: the loser will have to get over it.

Now, their roles have been reversed for the last time, but it's still true: The loser has to get over it.

"I know that," he repeats.

Saying this, thinking this is probably part of him accepting it.

He will get over it.

* * *

 **V)**

But there's still something. Something Pike needs to know, something he can do. For himself, for Teresa, maybe even for Jane (even though that's hardly his top priority).

"So, do you have a plan?" Pike asks.

Jane doesn't understand, so he elaborates.

This is what he says: "Well, I was offering her a life. A home, a family if she wanted it, a future. Have you thought about any of that?"

This is what he means: You're the man who always has a plan. So tell me, what kind of plan has won against my plan? What can you offer I haven't thought off?

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet." Jane finally informs him.

No plan. Can it really be that simple, he wonders.

"Well, what are you offering her? I mean, other than Patrick Jane."

Pike doesn't understand. Jane seems to be stuck for an answer.

"Hey."

Teresa.

* * *

 **VI)**

Pikes heart sinks and he finds himself holding his breath.

(He has been doing that often during their time, he realizes).

From this moment on, he only has eyes for her, he forgets the other man is even there.

Teresa.

One hell of a good looking women. Smart and sassy and wonderful. Everything he wanted, everything that wasn't meant to be, everything that had felt so great.

But Pike doesn't begrudge trying, not even now when everything's so painfully obvious.

"Excuse me." Jane says, before turning round and walking towards her. When passing by, he bumps into her.

* * *

 **VI)**

Another misunderstanding.

For it's not really bumping, it's something else. Meeker and more intimate.

A brush, maybe the shortest leaning into each other.

Just a tiny, silly detail, but witnessing it answers Pikes last question:

Teresa and him, they would never have had something like that, he can accept that now. All the wanting and time in the world wouldn't have grown something like that. Not for them.

This is different, this is more.

This is love.

Real love.

And Pike understands that he can't cope with love, it's that simple.

The pain in his chest disappears.

He understands that the life he had to offer couldn't be enough, that trying and wanting could never take the place of real love, that Teresa never needed somebody to have a plan for her.

They could never have made each other happy.

* * *

 **VII)**

Teresa.

So here they are. For one last time.

Glowing and wonderful she looks, worried, she is.

And Pike's sorry, he didn't mean to scare her. He hasn't come to bring trouble or blame, he just wanted to see—

"What are you doing here?" she asks warily.

That she's having it as good as she deserves it.

"Well, I was upstairs, giving a deposition and I thought I would say hi."

While talking, Pike looks at her closely, looks for signs that she's not happy.

He doesn't find any.

(Of course not.)

Pike averts his gaze.

"Stupid idea."

He smiles abashed.

"No. It's fine."

They both know it's not, but it's kind of her to lie.

"Anyway."

For one last time, he fixes the look on her face on his mind.

"It's good to see you, Teresa," he says.

(Farewell Teresa. Be well, you two, he means.)

"You too, Marcus."

Jane's been waiting for her.

Pike leaves without looking back, knowing that he won't come back.

There's no room here for him.

* * *

 **VIII)**

Sometimes Pike wonders if they would have worked out under different circumstances. If the set-up had been different, if their roles had been reversed, if he had met Teresa before she had met Patrick Jane.

Always, this is the answer he has to give: No.

For theirs has never been a "something went wrong along the way" story, there's has always been a "something was wrong from the start" story.

* * *

 **IX)**

This is the lesson Pike has learned:

A pawn can become anything.

He just can't have everything.


End file.
